Category: Moral Theology

A reader writes:

Can you address the Church’s position on forced conversions in light of the Fox reporters  who were forced to convert to be released?  Would I condemn myself if I did something like that in similar  circumstance?  Would martyrdom be my only choice?

This is a situation that many Christians have faced in world history–ever since the first century–and many still face it today. In fact, the 20th century was an unprecedented time of Christian martyrdom.

The fundamental parameter governing the moral evaluation of convert-or-die situations was provided to us by Jesus Christ himself:

So every one who acknowledges me before men, I also will acknowledge before my Father who is in heaven; but whoever denies me before men, I also will deny before my Father who is in heaven [Matt. 10:32-33].

The context here is specifically that of persecution being used to bring about denials of the Christian faith:

Beware of men; for they will deliver  you up to councils, and flog you in their synagogues, and you will be dragged before governors and kings for my  sake, to bear testimony before them and the Gentiles.

Brother will deliver up brother to death, and the father his child, and
children will rise against parents and have them put to death; and you will be hated by all for my name’s sake. But he  who endures to the end will be saved [vv. 17-18, 21-22].

The principle is that denying Christ in the face of persecution is a grave sin and thus if done with adequate knowledge and consent it will be a mortal sin. Whether or not a particular person mortally sins in such a situation thus depends on the amount of knowledge the had of the sinful character of this act and the question of how deliberately they chose it. 

In cases of persecution, the extreme fear or pain (as in the case of torture) that a person may be under may deprive him of adequate consent and thus we cannot be sure, in any particular case, whether a person who denied the faith committed a mortal sin. We may thus always hope for the salvation of those who denied the faith under duress.

The Christians in the early centuries often faced persecutions and devoted quite a bit of though to the subject of what one’s responsibilities are if a persecution begins. Their writings devote significant attention to this question.

It was decided, for example, that if a ruler begins a persecution that Christians are not required to turn themselves in. (It was also found that those Christians who did turn themselves in to the authorities were often the first to crack under pressure because they had done so in a momentary fit of zeal that did not reflect a stable attitude of mind.)

The non-obligation to turn oneself in may be seen in Jesus’ statement from the same speech quoted above:

When they persecute you in one town, flee to the next [v. 23].

Christians therefore can legitimately avoid the occasions of persecution. They don’t have to boldly go down to the local persecutor’s headquarters and start preaching. It is legitimate for them to do what they can to avoid persecution as long as they do not deny the Christian faith.

In subsequent centuries, further theological reflection has elaborated what is and is not required in disclosing information about oneself, and the Catechism explains that:

The right to the communication of the truth is not unconditional. Everyone must conform his life to the Gospel precept of fraternal love. This requires us in concrete situations to judge whether or not it is appropriate to reveal the truth to someone who asks for it.

Charity and respect for the truth should dictate the response to every request for information or communication. The good and safety of others [or oneself–jimmy], respect for privacy, and the common good are sufficient reasons for being silent about what ought not be known or for making use of a discreet language. The duty to avoid scandal often commands strict discretion. No one is bound to reveal the truth to someone who does not have the right to know it [CCC 2488-2489].

If, therefore, a Muslim terrorist has kidnapped you and is threatening to kill you if you are a Christian and insist on remaining one, you would be morally able to use silence, misdirection, and mental reservations to protect one’s life. One can never deny the truth–that Jesus Christ is the Son of God–but one can use morally legitimate means to preserve one’s life as long as the truth is not denied.

This does not mean, however, that the use of these means is obligatory. A person will win for himself a very large martyr’s crown if he tells the terrorist, "I am a Christian and I will not deny my Savior no matter what you do."

A person who resorts to legitimate silence or discreet speech to avoid death will not win that crown, but he will not commit mortal sin either.

What forms of silence and discrete speech are legitimate will depend on the specific questions that the terrorist is putting to one and would have to be evaluated on a case-by-case basis.

It is good not to spend too much time imagining what we ourselves would do in such situations and worrying about whether our response would be adequate. The reason for this is that we do not now have the graces that God would give us in such a situation. Grace is frequently delivered in a just-in-time manner, and God will be sure to give us graces when we are being travely tested that we do not currently possess.

Thus St. Paul tells us that God will always provide a way for us to bear up under temptation (1 Cor. 10:13), and Jesus himself–again in the Matthew 10 discourse–says that when faced with persecution,

When they deliver you up, do not be anxious how you are to speak or
what you are to say; for what you are to say will be given to you in
that hour; for it is not you who speak, but  the Spirit of your Father speaking through you [vv. 19-20].

If this applies to those who have been delivered up to hostile authorities, it applies even more to those of us who are not presently faced with the situation. The thing to do, then, is not to worry about what would do. It is to resolve now that we will trust in God to give us the grace then to get through the situation.

The same thing, incidentally, applies to any case where we are spending time worrying about whether we might crack under pressure and give in to sin in the future: Resolve now to rely on God to get you through it then and don’t allow yourself to be anxious.

A reader writes:

I’m curious how a Catholic should refer to protestant ‘bishops.’  In the course of day to day (non-religious) business I run across men who refer to themselves as "Bishop so and so" when we introduce ourselves  They are typically from small, local, apostolic-type of protestant sects . . . in other words, they are not priests, nor are they annointed by bishops in communion with the Church.

A Catholic would NEVER give the title of pope to somebody who introduced themselves as such (except the true Holy Father).  So, does the same reasoning follow for protestant bishops?  Shall I simply call him ‘reverend’?

I’ll be of what help I can, but first let me challenge one bit of what you said–the idea that a Catholic would never give the title pope to anyone except the holy father.

Actually, they would.

And you know who would? The pope himself!

The reason is that the term "pope" is not used exclusively of the bishop of Rome. It is also used of certain other religious leaders, including the head of the Coptic Church and the head of the Eastern Orthodox Church of Alexandria.

Thus the current head of the Coptic Church is His Holiness Pope Shenouda III (his website is copticpope.org) and the head of the Eastern Orthodox Church of Alexandria is Pope Theodoros II (though he seems to be more commonly called Patriarch Theodore II; and here’s his website).

The title "pope" is given to these individuals even by the pope. If you check the Vatican’s web site, you’ll find a common declaration between Pope Paul VI and Pope Shenouda III, and an address by John Paul II to delegates of Pope Shenouda, and a mention of Pope Shenouda in the encyclical Ut Unum Sint (see n. 62)–among other references to the Coptic pope, using the title "pope" for him.

These usages reflect the approach taken by the Holy See, which is generally to concede the religious titles that are customary in the community that a religious leader belongs to.

This is not to say that they would always grant a person his preferred title. For example, I can scarcely imagine that they would concede the title "pope" to an antipope (of which there are several at the moment, as there always are in every age of Church history since there are always kooks in every age of Church history). Doing that would be too confusing to the faithful, but when it is clear that the religious leader in question makes no pretense of being Catholic, the Holy See has judged the situation sufficiently clear to the faithful that it is willing to extend to a clergyman whatever his preferred title is, even if that title is "pope" (which, after all, just means "father").

This practice is also extended to Protestant bishops who are presumed to have been invalidly ordained, including the head of the Anglican communion. Thus on the Vatican’s web site you’ll find a common declaration between Pope John Paul II and the Archbishop of Canterbury, referring to the latter as "the Archbishop of Canterbury."

The reason they’re doing this, presumably, is the principle that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar, and refusing to use the preferred title for such individuals would be a distinctly vinegary thing to do.

On the other hand, we don’t all move in circles of high ecumenical figures, and there are times when a vinegary "tough love" approach is warranted. It is certainly understandable that you would feel uncomfortable conceding the title "bishop" to individuals who . . . aren’t. And, furthermore, who may not even be trinitarians, depending on what kind of "apostolic" church they are members of.

It’s understandable if they feel that they have this office and are thus entitled to be titled by the title with which it is titled, but it is also understandable if you don’t.

It therefore strikes me as a judgment call as to what you should call them in any particular circumstances. Depending on what will do the most good in a particular case, you might follow the Holy See’s general practice and concede a non-Catholic clergyman his title of preference or you might choose to call him something else. "Reverend" is a good backup term since it is generally used as a clergy honoriffic across confessional lines and doesn’t connote much more than that the person is a clergyman (more info on the title). Personally, I’d have a hard time using even this, though, for a person who is not a trinitarian minister.

As a Southerner, I’ve got something of an out on this one, though. Where I come from, the honoriffic "Sir" is so ingrained that it can be seamlessly used for any male, regardless of his job. In fact, Catholic priests are often reflexively called "Sir" by many Southern Catholics, without the Catholics even realizing that they’re doing it. (They’re not doing it to the exclusion of "Father"; it’s just that "Sir" slips out automatically.) This was particularly noted by one priest I came into contact with who moved to the South and was at first disoriented by his own congregants calling him "Sir" part of the time, until he realized that it was just the custom of the area.

(NOTE: I’m sure that there are Southern Catholics who would disapprove of this, but it’s a fact that it happens–particularly among those who have had the polite use of "Sir" ingrained in them from a very young age.)

Of course, this would leave me in a lurch for what to call a female clergyman, but then there’s that other reflexive regional usage: "Ma’am."

It is also worth observing that the dilemma posed in this post is not unique to Catholics. Non-Catholics also feel torn about what to call clergy from other groups. In particular, many Protestants feel reluctant to call Catholic priests "Father," for understandable (if ultimately unpersuasive) reasons.

I know that from my own time as a Protestant, and I was struck when, after becoming Catholic, I once was visting the Western Wall in Jerusalem with Fr. Mitch Pacwa and I looked over and saw–of all people–Jerry Falwell doing a videotaping a few feet away from me. I pointed him out and soon our two groups were talking. I was struck by how gracious Rev. Falwell was toward Fr. Pacwa, greeting him warmly as "Father" even though Falwell’s theological views have been quite opposed to Catholic principles.

The culture war in America, though, like the ecumenical effort in Rome, has led to a warming of relations between folks of different confessions and a corresponding willingness to grant each other their preferred titles.

A reader writes:

When pregnant, I have am prone to receiving a type of bacterial
infection that can cause pre-term labor, and my first child was born
several weeks early because of it. 

During my second pregnancy, I read
that many doctors recommend the use of condoms during pregnancy to try
and reduce the transition of the bacteria, because the male germ cells can aggravate
the condition (this is not related to a sexually transmitted disease.)
My midwife recommended this practice as well, although there have not
yet been studies to see if it is effective. 

I solicited opinions on a
Catholic e-mail list as to whether or not the use of condoms during
pregnancy under these conditions would be licit.  I assumed that it
would be.  If I’m already pregnant, I am obviously not trying to
contracept, right? 

I was surprised that the opinion fell the other way,
feeling that the "unitive end" of the marital act would be frustrated if
a barrier were between us.

Could you give me your opinion on the subject?

I can, but let me do so in the below-the-fold section of this post so that people don’t have to look at the discussion who do not want to read it. (I’ll also keep as clinical as I can).

Continue reading “Condoms During Pregnancy”

A reader writes:

I’m one of your blog readers, and I’ve got a dilemma/question.  You recently
posted your thoughts regarding the issue of adopting frozen embryos.  You
pointed out that the Church has not taken a formal stand on the issue as of
yet.  A lively discussion ensued in the combox.  My wife and I had one
lovely daughter using this method.  Since the birth of our daughter, we have
converted from evangelicalism to Catholicism, and want to submit ourselves
to the teachings of the Church in this (and all) matters.  We are
contemplating attempting the procedure again, and have reserved a set of
embryos in preparation. 

My wife has raised a potential moral concern that I
have not seen addressed anywhere.  Part of the transfer process involves
drugs that regulate a woman’s cycle for several months prior to the
transfer, in order to be able to transfer the embryos at the woman’s most
fertile time. 

My wife argues that these drugs are technically a form of
birth control, since they prevent pregnancy until the time of transfer.  She
thus believes that taking these drugs as part of the process would be
illicit. 

I have countered however that even if the doctor would agree to an
unmedicated transfer (unlikely), this might reduce the chances that the
embryos would implant, leading to their demise.  The good that could be done
(providing the best chance for the embryos to live) outweighs any potential
evil from the short period of "birth control". 

Further, since we are
infertile anyway (unfortunately, I am sterile), the fact that she may
receive drugs that would act in a contraceptive manner is moot.  I argue
that the intent of the Church’s ban on birth control is not a problem with
the chemicals themselves, but rather that the Church doesn’t want to inhibit
the potential of conception.  Since we can’t have children anyway, that
isn’t an issue. 

My wife counters that God could work a miracle by curing my
sterility, and we shouldn’t hinder that possibility by even a short period
of possible contraception.  I then counter that she’s being too idealistic .
. . We are meeting with the doctor soon, and need to make a decision.  Would
you care to comment on this issue?

I’ll be happy to provide what insight I can.

First, as you note, the Church has not made a determination of the moral status of frozen embryo adoption and there are orthodox Catholic moralists on both sides of the issue. Until there is an official determination, individuals may pursue their own conscience regarding the morality of the action provided they do not violate other, established principles in the process. This does not mean doing whatever you want, though. It means doing the best to inform your conscience on the matter even in the absence of a Church declaration (e.g., reading arguments for and against the relevant positions, doing a novena if the reading doesn’t convince you one way or the other, etc.)

What you’re asking here is whether there is another established principle–i.e., that contraception is immoral–that would be violated by doing the procedure in the proposed way.

While you are correct that saving the lives of the embryos is a very grave matter, one should not think in terms of this good outweighing the evil of contraception. Contraception is one of those things that is always and intrinsically wrong and is not permissible no matter what the circumstances. It cannot be done as an end in itself, nor can it be done as a means to a good end–even a very good one.

That said, there is the question of whether the use of hormones to regulate your wife’s fertility cycle would constitute contraception in this case.

In the Church’s official documents (starting with Humanae Vitae, though the passage is also quoted in the Catechism of the Catholic Church, number 2370), contraception is defined as:

every action which, whether in anticipation of the conjugal act, or in its accomplishment, or in the development of its natural consequences, proposes, whether as an end or as a means, to render procreation impossible

From this definition, it would appear that the use of hormones to regulate a woman’s cycle in order to facilitate implantation does not involve contraception.

It is true that, by regulating her cycle, there will be infertile periods, but these periods are not being created in order "to render procreation impossible," which is a sine qua non of contraception. If you’re not trying to render procreation impossible, what you are doing is not contraception. It’s something else.

Such non-contraceptive use of hormones can, however, have a contraceptive effect. This is the case with women who use hormones to treat a medical condition and the hormones simultaneously prevent them from getting pregnant. Such usage is permitted under the law of double-effect as long as the usual conditions for this law are satisfied (e.g., the contraceptive effect is not an end in itself, the contraceptive effect is not a means to the therapeutic end, the condition being treated is serious enough to endure the contraceptive side-effect, there is not a better treatment for the condition). Some debate whether couples should have intercourse during such treatment due to increased possibility of miscarriage, though this is something that the Church has not yet addressed one way or the other.

In your case, the use of hormones to regulate your wife’s cycle in order to achieve pregnancy would not be contraceptive. It would create infertile periods, but these are undesired and the fact that you are infertile renders the question moot. Catholic moral theology would not hold that it is necessary to withhold medical treatment in this area in hope of the miraculous happening any more than it would be necessary in any other area to withhold medical treatment in hope of the miraculous happening.

Some moralists might disagree with elements of the reasoning above but, since the Church has not yet addressed the matters at hand, we are left to try to figure out such matters for ourselves, informing our consciences as best we can by reading different perspectives on the matter, weighing the arguments they use, entrusting the matter to God in prayer, and then following our best determination.

Hope this helps!

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A reader writes:

I’m a college-age guy and, though I’m same-sex attracted, I haven’t "come out" to anyone besides my confessor and a few other older mentors. This is so for various reasons:

1. I’m not attracted exclusively to other males, but the nuances would be hard to convey accurately.

2. I don’t want people to think of me predominantly in terms of my sexuality: "So-and-so, who’s gay, …."

3. Late adolescence is a time of tremendous flux and anyway I consider SSA somewhat curable, but even were I changed people’s ability to forget or take me at my word wouldn’t keep pace.

4. I don’t want (especially male) friends to feel even the slightest discomfort or awkwardness or pity, or wonder whether I have fallen for them.

5. Charity seems to require it: my parents would be devastated to learn of this — especially my robustly masculine father, who would consider himself to have failed his son.

6. I don’t want people, poisoned by modern thought on the matter, to expect of, or reinforce in, me stereotypically gay behavior, views, etc.

For these reasons, I’ve considered myself justified in concealing my orientation from others. But this doesn’t involve only silence on the matter, which itself seems morally unproblematic. It also involves equivocation, implicit denial of my same-sex attractions in certain conversations, and sometimes outright denial (when I’m asked more or less pointedly about my orientation).

Do my above concerns justify mental reservation? And granting so, what is the morally legitimate and prudent response when I’m asked directly? I currently feel dishonest and deceptive keeping this from my closest friends, but I still consider it highly imprudent to tell anyone, even them. I don’t want to lie, but neither do I want to share the truth.

First of all, let me say that the attitude you are taking toward your SSA is very commendable. It sounds like you have a good theological and practical handle on your situation, and you should be proud of yourself.

In particular, not allowing yourself to be defined by your SSA is healthy. If people say to themselves "I’m gay" or "I’m a homosexual" or similar things, it tends to reinforce the problem. What you are is a man. The more you make that central to your identity, the easier it will be to deal with temptations to act contrary to your nature (which is what all temptations are). It is better to say, "I’m a man who happens to have temptations in this area, but I refuse to be defined by my temptations. I can manage and master them and diminish them, likely to the point of being mere annoyances."

For all of the reasons you numbered, and others, I would say that you are justified in keeping the fact of your SSA to yourself.

In particular, I would say you are warranted in keeping it from your current friends, no matter how close they are. The college years being a turbulent time of change, it is highly likely that many of your current friends will not be friends five, ten, twenty, or thirty years from now. You may even have a falling out with some that would cause them to be hostile toward you in the future. For that reason, keeping the matter to yourself would definitely be prudent.

I would also pursue reparative therapy to help moderate or cure your SSA. The folks at Narth.Org would be a good starting place.

As far as the means by which you can keep the information to yourself, silence is certainly an option but when it is not possible, mental reservation is as well. The Catechism states:

2489 Charity and respect for the truth should dictate the response to every request for information or communication. The good and safety of others, respect for privacy, and the common good are sufficient reasons for being silent about what ought not be known or for making use of a discreet language. the duty to avoid scandal often commands strict discretion. No one is bound to reveal the truth to someone who does not have the right to know it.

Here the Catechism is focused on respecting the good and privacy of others, but the same thing applies to our own good and privacy. Nobody has a right to know this about you (unless you are applying for a position where disclosure is warranted, such as discerning a vocation to the priesthood) and the use of "a discreet language" (i.e., mental reservation) would be warranted.

As to what kind of mental reservation would be the best to use . . . I dunno. . . . I guess it would depend on the circumstance.

Much of the time you could probably simply say, "I’m not gay," which is true given that "gay" is an ideologically loaded word that commonly implies not just SSA but also a whole set of additional things, like actively engaging in homosexual behavior and morally approving the "gay lifestyle."

It also strikes me that in appropriate occasions you could simply say, "I like girls" and leave it at that since, as you mention above, you do are in fact attracted to women.

In some cases simply giving a person a disapproving look and refusing to dignify the question with an answer might be the best thing.

These responses are likely to suffice for anything other than a direct question asking if you have any degree of SSA–which is an extremely intrusive question for a friend to ask. For the latter, I would recommend simply refusing to answer the question in one way or another. Giving a disapproving look might work (for the question is to be disapproved of) or, if you feel the need to say something,  I know that many people, if asked a lot of personal questions about their sex life, would be inclined to simply respond "Are you crazy?" or even "Go to hades" (it being understood that you are not literally wishing damnation upon somone but that you find the question offensive and have no intention of answering it).

I’m sure that there are better ways of getting around the question (which shouldn’t come up that often; I’d make a point of not getting into conversations where it is likely to come up, though some of that may be unavoidable with college-age people these days). The above responses are ones that occur to me off the top of my head, but perhaps others can provide better ones in the combox.

20

A reader writes:

I know from the catechism that gambling is not immortal per se as long as it is fair, the money can afford to be lost, etc.

However, is a low-stakes home poker game sinful if there are state laws prohibiting such?

I have to confess that I know very little about gambling or what laws may apply to it, so I don’t know if there even are state laws prohibiting people from playing poker in their homes, but let’s suppose that there are.

Would it be immoral to violate these laws?

A good starting point in answering this question is to refresh ourselves on what the definition of a law is. According to St. Thomas Aquinas, a law

is nothing else than an ordinance of reason for the common good, made by him who has care of the community, and promulgated [ST I-II:90:4].

There are five elements that have to be present for something to count as a law on this view: (1) It has to be an ordinance, (2) it has to be in accord with reason, (3) it has to be oriented toward the common good, (4) it has to be made by someone with the right authority, and (5) it has to be promulgated so that the public knows what it is to do or not do.

Anything not meeting these criteria is not a law in the proper sense and is not binding, legally or morally from a Thomistic perspective. (That does not mean that you won’t go to jail for violating it, though. Dictatorships frequently have all kinds of unjust laws that serve as pretexts for locking inconvenient people up.)

Of the five conditions named above, it is clear that state laws against playing low-stakes poker in your home would meet seveal of them: In particular, they would seem to meet conditions (1), (4), and (5) right out of the gate, so the real question is whether they also meet conditions (2) and (3).

With regard to these conditions, it would seem that the common good does suggest at least some kind of regulation of gambling, like any entertainment. I wouldn’t want my next door neighbor running a casino out of his garage any more than I would want him running a disco or a bar or a boxing venue or a movie theater out of it. Zoning laws are directed toward the common good (even if one can quibble with any particular zoning law).

Given the history of the gambling industry, it would seem to be particularly subject to the need for regulation to keep it clean and fair.

(I know I wouldn’t want to play dabo in Quark’s bar; his wheel is rigged!)

So laws regulating gambling seem to be reasonable and (hopefully) directed toward the common good in general, but what about in this particular case?

Here let me introduce the concept of a legamoron.

A legamoron is a "legal oxymoron"–a law providing that something is illegal even though the government has no intention of enforcing the law rigorously.

The classic example of a legamoron is the speed limit. Almost everybody, at least sometimes, violates the speed limit by at least a little bit. And almost everybody does it deliberately at some point.

The government knows that (its own members do it just as much as everyone else) and that is one reason why there is "tolerance" shown for minor violations of the law (e.g., going two miles over the limit). If you commit a flagrant violation, though, expect to get nailed and to have every mile you were going over the limit charged against you.

Legamorons can be bad. There are some legamorons that should be rigorously enforced, even though they’re not. Many people today would put immigration laws in that category.

Legamorons can also be selectively enforced in ways that are unjust, such as enforcing traffic laws more rigorously in the case of some groups than others, leading to the "Driving while black" phenomenon.

But in principle legamorons can establish a kind of framework that helps keep society orderly by establishing a model for what should happen and providing a basis for prosecuting flagrant violations.

As I’ve said, I’m woefully ignorant of the laws regarding gambling (though I’m sure I’ll get enlightened in the combox), but assuming there are state laws that prohibit playing small-stakes poker in your home, I would be inclined to regard them as legamorons–statutes meant to provide a kind of societal "rule of thumb" that can be used as a hard rule when flagrant violations are committed, even though there is no intention or desire on the part of legislators to have them followed rigidly.

If someone is running a poker game in his house where tens of thousands of dollars are changing hands (y’know, the kind of money people might actually pull guns on each other over or that organized crime might take an interest in) then the state wants the ability to prosecute. But if someone is running a poker game where the pot never exceeds $50 then I don’t think the legislature cares about that any more than it cares about people going one mile over the speed limit (in most cases).

It thus strikes me that there is a case to be made that such laws are not intended–despite the imprecise way they may be written–to be applied to genuine small stakes poker games.

If they are then it seems to me that the question comes on the table of whether they meet the second condition for a law–that they have to be in accord with reason.

Given that gambling in general is not intrinsically immoral (a point that may not be recognized in some areas), and if we take it as given that poker can be played morally (if not then pick a form of gambling that you think can be played morally), it would seem that there would be a threshold below which the stakes of the game are so small that it is not rational to try to regulate it.

I mean, suppose people aren’t playing for money at all but just for "points," which can’t be redeemed for anything other than the satisfaction of having won so many points in an evening–a genuine zero-money game.

It would seem to me that it is not reasonable for the state to try to stop people from playing zero-stakes poker.

So let’s increase the size of the pot from nothing to something measured in pennies. It still strikes me that it would be irrational for the state to seriously prohibit such games.

Likewise if the pot is measured in individual dollars.

Or tens of dollars.

At some point, though, the pot becomes large enough that the state has a rational interest in regulating the game. Where that point is, I can’t say–and the legislature may have a hard time with it as well, which is the reason for many legamorons. (What the legislature is really concerned with in setting speed limits is keeping people from driving unsafely, but since it’s hard to define that precisely, they set a limit that ostensibly bars all driving over a certain speed in an area.)

I would guess that by the time thousands of dollars are being exchanged, the state has the ability to rationally intervene, though that is a personal opinion.

As long as one stays below the threshold of rational intervention–whatever that fuzzy threshold is–then by definition it is not rational for the state to prohibit a particular type of game and, according to Aquinas, the law would not bind morally (at least in this application of it).

Which is not to say that you won’t get fined or go to jail over violating it.

If you’re driving one mile over the limit, you may get a ticket, and if you’re running a low-stakes poker game in an area where it’s illegal, you may have the law come down on you.

That’s the risk you take.

A reader writes:

I came across an article by Michael Rosen in which he, inter alia, attempts to justify Embryonic Stem Cell research on the basis of the principle of Double Effect.  He writes that,

In my understanding, ESC research satisfies the four prongs of this principle: (1) creating stem-cell lines for research is not wrong in itself; (2) the intention of the scientist extracting the lines is right, namely saving lives through research; (3) the bad effect (i.e. killing the embryo) is not a means to the good effect (i.e. saving lives) because although the embryo dies after the stem-cells are extracted, its death is not a "means" to that extraction but rather a result thereof; and (4) the gravity of the reason for creating the ESC lines is commensurate with the foreseen (but unintended) bad effect, namely the death of the embryo.

I would be very interested in hearing what you think about this argument.  My own take is that it is his fourth point that fails the test, as medical research is not equal in gravity to the destruction of human life.

FIRST, GET THE STORY.

The author of the piece writes from a Jewish perspective but draws upon Catholic moral thought in the process of doing so. I commend him for doing that. People of other religions can have valid moral insights, and we should use the best available ones in trying to crack moral problems. I wouldn’t hesitate to draw upon Jewish theologians in trying to crack a moral problem if they had the best insights on the subject at hand, and so I’m glad to see folks from other religions making use of Catholic ones. The truth of a moral insight–not whose community is best known for articulating it–is what is important.

The article contains a number of points that I may end up having to discuss in future posts, such as the interpretation of the verses in Exodus as they apply to abortion and the morality of nuclear deterrence, but for this post let’s stick to the application that the author makes of the principle of double-effect to the embryonic stem cell controversy.

In responding, I will be speaking from a Catholic perspective. Mr. Rosen may make different assumptions at various points (e.g., about whether the unborn are human beings from the moment of conception, though this is a matter of science rather than religion; scientifically a human being or living human organism comes into existence as soon as the germ cells unite), but I hope the exercise will be informative.

Let’s start with an articulation of the elements in the principle of double-effect:

One may perform an action which has two effects, one of which is evil and the other of which is good, if and only if:

1) The action is not itself intrinsically immoral.
2) The evil effect is not an end in itself.
3) The evil effect is not a means to the good effect.
4) The good effect is proportionate to the evil effect (meaning, at least as much good is expected to result as evil).
5) There is not a better way of achieving the good effect.

Now let’s apply this to artificially creating embryos and harvesting their stem cells in order to create a stem cell line for medical research.

While the author is correct in saying that "creating stem-cell lines for research is not wrong in itself," he has misframed the issue. The issue is not "Can you create a stem cell line?" The issue is "Can you artificially create and then destroy embryos for purposes of creating a stem cell line?"

When the correct issue is identified, it is clear that the first condition of the principle of double-effect is not satisfied (at least from the Catholic perspective). The artificial creation of human beings is intrinsically immoral. God designed human reproduction to take place in a certain fashion, and man is not free to circumvent his design. While medical technology can assist human reproduction, it cannot replace it, such as combining human germ cells in vitro.

That said, once a human being has been created–whether in vitro or in utero or by a transporter device or anything else–that human has a right to life and cannot be killed unless he becomes an aggressor who poses a grave danger to other humans so that the principle of legitimate defense becomes involved.

To kill him without the principle of legitimate defense being triggered is to kill an innocent human being and this is (from the Catholic perspective) intrinsically immoral. As John Paul II wrote in his encyclical Evangelium Vitae:

[B]y the authority which Christ conferred
upon Peter and his Successors, and in communion with the Bishops of the
Catholic Church, I confirm that the direct and voluntary killing of an innocent
human being is always gravely immoral. This doctrine, based upon that unwritten
law which man, in the light of reason, finds in his own heart (cf. Rom
2:14-15), is reaffirmed by Sacred Scripture, transmitted by the Tradition of
the Church and taught by the ordinary and universal Magisterium.

The deliberate decision to deprive an innocent human
being of his life is always morally evil and can never be licit either as an
end in itself or as a means to a good end. It is in fact a grave act of
disobedience to the moral law, and indeed to God himself, the author and
guarantor of that law; it contradicts the fundamental virtues of justice and
charity [Evangelium Vitae 57].

When we discuss the third condition of the principle of double-effect we will look at whether embryo harvesting constitutes direct killing, but it is already clear that the enterprise of embryonic stem cell research (ESCR)–as it is currently envisioned–will not pass muster under the principle of double-effect because it does not fulfill the principle’s first condition since it involves the creation of human beings in an immoral manner.

It does, however, fulfill the second condition. Advocates of embryonic stem cell research are not proposing to create and destroy embryos for the fun of it. Those things are not the goal they are pursuing, and so the evil involved in their proposed course of action is not the end that they are pursuing. The second condition is thus fulfilled.

What about the third condition–the fact that the bad effect cannot be a means to the good effect?

Here Mr. Rosen makes an interesting statement. He writes:

[T]he bad effect (i.e. killing the embryo) is not a means to the good
effect (i.e. saving lives) because although the embryo dies after the
stem-cells are extracted, its death is not a "means" to that extraction
but rather a result thereof.

The first thing to note is that this is oddly phrased. In particular, note that "the bad effect" is identified with "killing the embryo." But killing the embryo is not an effect. It is an action. The death of the embryo is an effect, though, and Mr. Rosen later in the sentence refers to the embryo’s death ("although the embryo dies") so why don’t we assume that this is what he meant to say and see how the argument works.

The second thing to note is that Mr. Rosen is assuming that the deaths of embryos are brought about in a particular way: They aren’t directly killed, they only die as a result of having their stem cells removed.

I am not certain what technical means of extracting the stem cells Mr. Rosen has in mind here, and I have not had the opportunity to check on the precise methods that are being used to extract stem cells from embryos, but suppose that he is correct: The reason that embryos die in ESCR is that they cannot live without their stem cells (as opposed to, for example, being torn apart in order to get at their stem cells).

In this case the stem cells that are taken from the embryo are playing the same function as vital organs: They are biological components of the embryo that he cannot live without, and to take them out of him causes him to die.

What would we make of the same claim regarding an individual who has already had his stem cells differentiate into full-grown vital organs?

Suppose that I am a medical researcher who has hopes of developing a "heart line" that will allow me to grow new hearts for people and save their lives, but in order to do so I must have a living heart to start with.

Could I take a random person off the street and rip out his heart and then argue that

the bad effect (i.e. the death the person off the street) is not a means to the good
effect (i.e. saving lives) because although the passerby dies after his heart is extracted, his death is not a "means" to that extraction
but rather a result thereof.

It would seem true, on a close analysis, that the person’s death was not the means to the end of developing the heart line. I didn’t need him to die; I just needed his heart. Suppose that when I took it from him, I happened to have an artificial heart in my back pocket, and as soon as I’d extracted his biological one, I shoved the artificial one into his chest and thus kept him alive. That would seem to illustrate the point that his death itself is not a means to an end the way that, for example, bumping off your rich relative in order to get an inheritance would be.

But we still would not (morally) tolerate researchers grabbing people off the streets and ripping out their hearts in order to make advances in cardiology that will save lives.

Why?

Because (among other reasons), in the real world we don’t have good artificial hearts and they’d never be used by organlegging researchers anyway and so the actions of such researchers would cause the deaths of innocent people.

Removing part of a person’s body that that person needs in order to live is directly killing the person. I can’t rip out a person’s heart or liver or lungs or stem cells or anything else that the person needs to stay alive and claim that I’m not killing him.

We thus loop back to the first condition needed for the law of double-effect: The action cannot be immoral in itself, and directly and voluntarily killing a person–by removing his heart or his stem cells–is intrinsically immoral.

The fourth condition–that the good effect is proportionate to the evil effect, is one that is arguable. While we have not yet had life-saving breakthroughs from embryonic stem cell lines, it is quite possible that we will in the future. If so, it is possible that the number of lives that will be saved through these means will be greater than the number of embryos that had to be killed in order to achieve them.

But the fourth condition alone–much less the mere possibility that it will be fulfilled–is not sufficient.

The fifth condition is also relevant: There has to be no better way of achieving the good. This is a subject to which Mr. Rosen devotes some attention in his article, though not in his enumeration of the double-effect conditions. He acknowledges the possibility of doing stem cell research without killing embryos and the moral preferability of such means.

At this point it is uncertain whether some of proposed alternative means are themselves moral, though others (e.g., using adult stem cells or bith matter stem cells) certainly are.

It is also uncertain whether these alternate means can allow us to do everything that ESCR would do, but that’s the nature of things: We know neither the full potential of ESCR or the full potential of the alternative means, so we cannot directly compare the results of the two.

But what we can say is that there are alternatives which at least give the appearance of the fifth condition being unfulfilled. It looks like there may be a better way of achieving the same good without killing embryos.

Whether or not that is the case, the double-effect argument fails because the very first condition is not satisfied: It is intrinsically immoral both to artificially create human beings for purposes of medical experimentation and it is intrinsically immoral to kill innocent humans for purposes of medical experimentation.

Recently I was writing
about how the way in which respect for the dead is
shown varies enormously from one culture to another, even within
Christendom.

By coincidence, I ran across some some pictures that dramatically illustrate this point, like the one below.


This is a picture of a chandelier in the Sedlec Ossuary, which is
located in the parish of Santa Barbara in Sedlec in the Czech Republic.
As you can see, it is made from human skeletons.

To me, given my cultural background, I find this extremely creepy
and have a hard time imagining how people could feel that this is an
appropriate way of handling the remains of the dead, but that’s now how
things were perceived in their culture. At least a significant portion
of people had to feel that this was reverent for it to happen, and in a
church of all places.

And the Sedlec Ossuary isn’t the only thing of this type in
Christendom. There are others as well, such as Santa Maria della
Concezione dei Cappuccini in Rome, which also has a massive ossuary
crypt of similar nature.

And there’s another big one in Portugal.

Being aware of these things, even if one personally finds them
creepy, can be helpful when one is trying to evaulate the moral
theology of how the dead are to be treated. While respect for the
remains of the dead is morally mandatory, the way in which that respect
is shown in different cultures varies in striking ways.

The kind of taboo we have in America on displaying or touching the
remains of the dead is not a human universal or even a Christian
universal.

MORE INFO ON & PICTURES OF THE SEDLEC OSSUARY.

AND SANTA MARIA DELLA CONCEZIONE DEI CAPPUCCINI.

AND THE ONE IN PORTUGAL.

AND STILL OTHERS.

Y’know, when I see pictures like the ones linked above, I can’t help
thinking about the words from one version of the old spiritual "Dem
Bones" or "Dry Bones" (which was a spiritual long before it was a kids’
song):

Ezekiel said it in the Bible,
Chapter thirty-seven, ten
These ol’ bones are gonna wake up walkin’!
These ol’ bones are gonna rise again!